


Coming Back for More

by Dubious_Literature



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Egg Laying, Emetophilia, Erotica, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Hand Jobs, Impregnation, Inflation, Intersex, Milking, Original Fiction, Other, Oviposition, Shameless Smut, Smut, Threesome, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wyverns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28190238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dubious_Literature/pseuds/Dubious_Literature
Summary: People pay top dollar for wyvern eggs, hence Dag's job 'tending to' such creatures. Not that Laurel, the wyvern, minds; Dag gets paid, Laurel gets off, and everyone goes home happy. Especially Ida, the curious, young woman who has never seen a wyvern in rut before. Curious, she decides to lend Dag a hand with Laurel...and then some.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

It was an afternoon as pleasant as any other in the coniferous realm of Felmontsford. The soldiers were off training and I was working the cages as usual. Growing up as a boy in the arse end of Curdingham, I hadn’t expected to pursue such a bizarre career, but I suppose that’s what happens when you grow up on a farm jerking off bulls and venture out in search of related work at a castle.

I sighed. There was Laurel, the wyvern. He was the pretty boy of the group, always trouncing about the cage in high spirits with his pearlescent underbelly and warm, coal-colored scales. I liked to think that outside of giving him obsequious handies, he and I got along; I could have imagined the two of us adventuring together, traipsing about the far reaches of the woods in search of treasure. But no. There was a demand for wyvern eggs, and thus, a demand for me - - the handjob guy. 

“Get over here you shit,” I grunted, and the stupid sod came bounding up, placing all the trust in the world in me. I could have drawn my blade and skewered the little bastard in half, and he never would have seen it coming…not that I would have, mind you, it’s just that the trust he placed in me was so over the top it stood out. Eh, maybe he was just eager to get off.

Laurel dropped the stick he’d been gnawing on and padded across the overgrown cage. I approached the stocks - - five shackles on the ground, two for his arms, two for his legs, and one to keep his tail still. I whistled twice and said, “Down,” and Laurel obeyed. The wyvern flopped into the dirt like a frisky pup, tongue flapping between his teeth. I gave him what he wanted for obeying: a leftover steak from the larder. Tossing it into the air he snapped his head up, bits of fat and gristle gnashed by his daggery teeth. I snorted. If it weren’t for Laurel’s temperament and fondness toward me, he would have easily bitten me in half.

“Alright, mate, it’s time.” 

I sank to my knees with a grunt – gods I was getting too old for this, so much for ever becoming an adventurer, eh? – and gingerly took each of his limbs, shackling his ankles, his big tail, and finally, his wrists. He squirmed around a little, but it was all an act of playfulness. Laurel liked toying with me and probably assumed I took pleasure in the same. Perhaps I would have played with the rascal more hadn't I a serious job to do.

I took a deep, deep breath. There he was, splayed out in his shackles, a foot and a half of jutting, pink ovipositor laid out across his shiny belly. Thanks to the stimulant I’d given him after our last session, he was already in the mood to rut and lay his eggs, dribbling slightly at the tip, precum glistening in the afternoon light of the castle. “Fuck’s sake,” I groaned. _This._ This was seriously my job.

It wasn’t a pretty job, though it was pretty straightforward. Wyverns are beautiful, hermaphroditic creatures, each with "male" and "female" cycles, respectively. The "male" cycle, known as "rut," was what was happening with Laurel; Laurel wanted to lay his eggs inside of a wyvern going through their "female" cycle, known as "heat." While wyverns have no single sex, I had taken to calling Laurel "he." I'm not sure why. I suppose it just suited him.

I could see Laurel’s vagina pucker between his ovipositor and arsehole; a small, whitish-pink slit which was currently slick. Laurel purred, squirming on the spot. “Yes, yes…” I gave in, taking my middle and index finger and touching the outer walls of his entrance. This elicited more soft clicks from his throat. My fingers slipped inside and I began to curl them. Each of my beckoning motions made the poor beast’s ovipositor throb on his belly.

I had seen Laurel go into heat before, but he wasn't used for breeding, he was used for ejaculating. People paid top dollar for their eggs, and the more eggs I coaxed out of Laurel, the bigger my paycheck was.

“There we go, buddy.” I spread my fingers and massaged Laurel’s walls, one finger extending, the other retracting. The wyvern tossed his head to the side and cooed. His ovipositor twitched again, leaking more shiny, white fluid onto his belly. “Gods, do I need the bucket already?”

“Here you are, Sir Dag.” 

A familiar voice of the feminine persuasion came from across the cage, followed by the creaking of the gate opening, closing, and locking. Ida was the king’s niece - - a brilliant swordswoman, though in Felmontsford there was a certain bias toward young, capable women. The blonde stood at about five feet and three inches, with long, tied-back hair. She was rather skinny, or at least one would assume until she drew her blade and revealed the tautness of her muscles. It was rare to see her in action, though; usually she was resting between jobs in the field, walking the castle grounds in her brown corset and bone-white dress. 

Her dress danced around her ankles, collecting droplets of mud as she approached me. “Your bucket.” She clutched the container to her middle as I…ugh…fingerfucked the wyvern. 

“I take no pleasure in this, mind you,” I grimaced, pushing my fingers in to their hilt. Laurel chittered and squirmed, jostling the shackles. 

“Oh?” The 19-year-old knelt down in the dirt with me, fingers clasping the rim of the bucket. “Is that so? Your trousers say otherwise.”

Glancing down, I did a double-take, noticing the bulge in my pants. “Ugh.” I closed my legs together still crouched on my knees, fingers idling inside the wyvern who impatiently mewled. “It’s a cock, it just… _does_ things, alright?”

“Goodness, there’s no shame in it, Dag.” _Dag._ She had never called me by my first name, at least not without the honorific. I confess, it made my knees feel a touch weak. 

“Oh? No shame in this?” I spread my fingers, exploring deeply inside of the creature. Laurel’s ovipositor gave a violent twitch, more semen dribbling from his shaft. I massaged a large, bulbous sack near Laurel’s cervix. As soon as I touched it, Laurel’s jaw unhinged and he whimpered, wrists and ankles pulling at the restraints. I was stimulating the wyvern’s egg sack, which felt like it was full-to-bursting. Nobles sought after the eggs because the eggs themselves were an aphrodisiac. The fertility potion I had administered the evening prior had filled Laurel with eggs; the more eggs, the more hormones; the more hormones he produced, the more excited he became.

Ida tilted her head to the side and brushed a strand of stray hair behind her ear. Her steely eyes constricted, locking onto the writhing beast. “I mean…tell me it isn’t a little, erm, arousing?”

As if on cue, Laurel let out a high-pitched whine, his ovipositor jerking and dribbling. "Bucket," I commanded.

Ida reached her hand out to grasp his length but stopped in her tracks, swallowing hard as though she were nervous. “D-do I just-”

“Now!” I growled.

Clutching the bucket with one hand, Ida used her other to seize Laurel. She angled his massive, pulsating appendage toward herself, attempting to draw the bucket up too. But she was too late. The next time my fingers spread and dug in, Laurel’s member twitched and exploded, a spray of thick, white release coating the girl’s corset and blouse.

Ida was in shock. She panicked and gripped Laurel’s cock harder, uncertain of what to do next. After Laurel sprayed her, his ovipositor began undulating in her grasp. “Wh-what’s happening?” I rolled my eyes and snatched the bucket from her, holding its rim against Laurel’s flesh. His ovipositor rippled and rippled until a clutch of eggs barreled up his shaft, spilling from his head and into the bucket in thick, wet droplets. 

“Move your hand up and down,” I instructed, trying to stay patient with the girl. After all, every, last egg was another fifty silver toward my paycheck. 

Ida did as instructed, clutching the appendage and sliding her palm from Laurel’s head all the way back down his shaft. That, mixed with my probing fingers, coaxed another rush of white fluid from the wyvern. The shackles jangled while dollops of white splurged across the eggs in the bucket.

“He’s having another orgasm?”

“He’ll have several,” I explained, watching Laurel’s ovipositor drain. “When a wyvern cums, he does so for two reasons: to lubricate another wyvern’s pussy, then to fertilize his own eggs.”

“How many times will Laurel – oh!” She was cut off when the appendage began undulating again. Ida began to stroke faster. She was a bit sloppy, as though this might have been her first real handjob, but Laurel was deep in the throes of release and basked in every last movement of her soft hands. Another clutch of eggs seethed from Laurel’s head. 

“Usually six to eight times,” I answered. 

“Wow...that's so much,” she gasped, watching the little, pearly beads fall into the messy bucket.

Six times was about the average for wyverns. I couldn't blame her for being surprised though. Ida had never milked a wyvern dry like I had. On rare occasions, Laurel would only orgasm two or three times. Once though, he came fifteen times. (My hand ached for days afterward.)

Ida worked his ovipositor and I his slit, orgasm after orgasm taking him while he bred the bucket. Eventually, only a thin strand of excess was left hanging from his shaft, and Laurel purred lazily in the dirt. “Alright, back up,” I instructed. The girl with the soiled blouse released Laurel and stood to her feet holding the half-full bucket. I could hear the sticky mess sloshing about.

I spent the next couple of minutes as I always did, stroking Laurel’s belly. It relaxed him after such an arduous ordeal. I raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Lady Ida. “So. Still arousing?”

_Ew, gods, no,_ I thought she would say. Instead, she dug her teeth into her bottom lip, avoiding eye contact with me. A flush spread across her freckled, summer’s complexion. Well, to each her own.

From my pocket I pulled out a glass vial full of purple liquid. “Alright, friend. Try to relax.” Ida’s eyes were back on me as I took my middle finger and pushed it gently against Laurel’s arsehole. A low growl brewed at the back of his throat. “I know, I know, but if I don’t administer the potion, then you’re going to be miserable tomorrow, eh?” I slipped my finger inside up to the first knuckle, then began pushing in and out, in and out, loosening him as I did every evening. He growled some more at first but eventually settled down. It was then that I uncorked the vial and replaced my finger with it. I sank it as deep as it would go without the beast sucking the damned thing inside himself, and let the purple fluid drain. Once the liquid was gone, I removed the vial and gave Laurel a pat on the arse before undoing his restraints and setting him free. 

“What was that?” asked Ida.

“It’s a fertility potion. He should have a fresh clutch of eggs ready by tomorrow evening...and be eager to release them," I added.

The starry-eyed warrior looked oddly smitten, which was off-putting considering she was covered in Laurel’s cum. “You're going to do this again tomorrow, are you? At the same time?"

I cocked at eyebrow.

“Just…just asking…”

“Aye. Tomorrow.” I carefully plucked the cum-filled bucket from her hands. “You aren’t considering-” 

“I should get cleaned up,” she laughed - - a nervous sort of laugh that told me I wasn't going to be alone with Laurel during my next shift.


	2. Chapter 2

“What do you mean you gave _my_ charge another potion?!” I barked.

Darby physically recoiled, sinking into the shadows of the awning outside the gate. “I-I-I though you’d forgotten, sir. Usually Laurel has some purple stuff around his arsehole, but this morning he-”

“Since when do you go poking around wyvern’s arseholes, boy?”

Darby swallowed.

“You know Laurel is mine to tend to! Keep to Verime’s pen! Next time I see you here I’ll stick the vial up your arse myself, you louse!”

“Y-yes sir. Sorry sir.” And with that, Darby was gone. 

I heaved a long, hard sigh, watching Laurel gallop about in his pen and stop every few feet to sink onto his haunches, bend his hips, and rut against the air. I could see how swollen his ovipositor was just by looking at it. Gods. _Two_ potions. One was enough to spend him and get him randy all over again day after day, so I couldn’t imagine what two did to him. His sack must have been full to bursting with eggs.

I opened, closed, and latched the gate. Laurel wasted no time scampering over to the shackles. I didn’t even have to whistle at him; he rolled onto his back of his own volition, whimpering and showing me his underbelly and ovipositor. I shackled him and tried to feed him his steak, but he wouldn’t have it; there was only one thing he wanted and it wasn’t food. 

“Alright, friend. Let’s get you-” 

The gate opened, closed, and latched again before my fingers could meet his entrance. “Goodness, was he that stiff yesterday?" asked Ida.

“No. That fool Darby gave him another potion.”

Ida bit her lip, eyeing Laurel. He struggled against the restraints, bucking his hips in a vain attempt for friction. The girl's head tilted, blonde hair let down around her shoulders that day, and said, “He must feel so uncomfortable..."

Before I could answer, the wyvern growled and tried rutting again. His ovipositor gave a hard jerk, spilling precum across his belly in a surprisingly thick burst; I nearly thought he’d had a proper orgasm for a second there.

“Oh, Laurel…” cooed Ida, who moved toward him. I was hesitant to let her help this time. After all, I had never seen Laurel in such an aggressive state before and I didn't want her to get hurt. But what truly concerned me was what Ida did next. Instead of sitting next to the beast as she and I did the day prior, she hoisted up her dress revealing absolutely _nothing_ underneath, except for a flurry of sunny, trimmed hair. All I could do was watch in confusion as she mounted the wyvern’s belly backward…her ass pointed toward his face, and her face toward Laurel’s appendage. 

“Ida…” I warned, fearful of how Laurel would react. I almost reached out and pulled her away when the wyvern began bucking, but Ida settled her weight down, her bare cunt against Laurel’s belly, and whispered,

“Shhh…settle down, love…let me help.”

Laurel’s growls and snarls turned into unmistakable purrs as Ida bent over. She pulled her hair across a single shoulder, placed her hands on either side of Laurel’s sensitive belly to stabilize herself, and licked his ovipositor from its head _alllllll_ the way down to where it connected with his crotch; a long, wet, foot-and-a-half long lick. 

I suppose sometimes my cock stood to attention when I ejaculated Laurel. I wasn’t turned on by Laurel, though; it was more of an involuntary response, like, _I’m doing a sex thing and sex things give me an erection._ But this? This I couldn’t ignore. Seeing Ida’s pink pussy with that golden flare of pubic hair and watching her give into depravity to actually _taste_ the wyvern…

I don’t know. It stirred something in me. Well, besides my cock. It definitely made that stir.

“Poor thing,” she breathed, tongue swirling around Laurel’s head. Laurel rutted, a sheen of precum painting her lips like gloss. She licked it clean and laughed a low, sultry laugh. “Dag?”

“Uh…a-aye?” I stammered, voice cracking slightly.

“Would you finger this poor boy? He looks _sooo_ miserable.”

Well, she was right about that. Besides, I wanted to feel just how full Laurel’s sack was having been administered two potions instead of one. I assumed my usual position – on my knees in the dirt – and used my thumb and index finger to spread Laurel’s pussy. 

“Is he wet?” asked Ida.

I offered an affirmative grunt. Indeed he was. Viscous, clear fluid was pooling at his entrance. Sliding my two opposite fingers inside was easy. Laurel chittered and rutted again as I pushed in deeper and deeper. My fingers found his sack immediately. It was full, fuller than I had ever felt it before. 

The moment I touched his sensitive egg sack, another river of precum dribbled out of Laurel’s head. The liquid pooled between Ida’s thighs, shimmering on the wyvern’s belly. “Bucket,” I commanded. Laurel wasn’t going to last. And all the better for me; I was about to get paid more than I’d been paid in a long, long time.

Imagine my surprise when Ida looked at me and shook her head. “Let me.” Before I could stop her, the girl parted her pink lips and wasted no time in sucking him, bobbing her head. My fingered remained inert inside of Laurel, pressed tightly against his egg sack as I watched on in…in something. Horror? Amusement? _Arousal?_

Each time she bobbed her head, Laurel’s ovipositor sank deeper and deeper into her throat. I could tell because Ida gagged. First came a soft, gentle gag. The next was harder, one that made her shoulders shake. That’s when I saw the bulge in her throat. My gods, she was taking at least half of him. “HRGK!” Her throat seized up and Laurel mewled, moving his hips as much as he could while restrained. This forced his appendage deeper into Ida’s throat, and by gods, she took it.

I knew what would happen: Laurel would ejaculate and Ida would skedaddle. She would grab the bucket and we would milk him. Then, we would **never speak of this again.** But oh how wrong I was.

I parted my fingers and beckoned inside of Laurel, something that he always enjoyed. It only took ten, maybe fifteen pumps of my digits before Laurel opened his mouth, growled, and came.

Ida made a guttural retching noise as her thighs squeezed tight around Laurel’s belly. This only heightened Laurel’s climax, because he rutted again. The bulge in Ida’s throat billowed out. Her lips parted as wide as they could and she gasped for air. With it came a gurgle from the back of her throat, which Laurel was eagerly breeding.

“Come on, pull back girl,” I insisted. “You've seen firsthand how much a wyvern cums."

Ida grunted – defiance, I think – and doubled down, fingers clutching at Laurel’s belly while her lips clasped tight around his member. I sighed. She wasn’t going to pull back in time for Laurel to-

Oh heavens. There it was. The undulating. The waves of clutches rising higher and higher up his shaft. The waves started at his base, then moved into her mouth, and afterward, I could only assume her throat until-

“HRGKKK!” She dry retched around Laurel as eggs spilled down her throat. I couldn’t imagine what his small, transparent clutches felt like slipping down her gullet like that. I didn’t _want_ to imagine, but clearly Ida did, for as each clutch was deposited into the girl, she too rutted against the wyvern, hips straining so that her bare lady could feel the soft underbelly of the beast.

I hated it, hated that there was something so pure and sensual about the two of them vying for the other’s touch; each of them fawning over the friction of the other. Fuck it, I thought, and gave them both what they longed for.

I sank a third finger inside of Laurel's pussy, met with the bucking of his hips and a subsequent gag from Ida. My fingers curled and spread over and over, massaging Laurel’s slick walls and pressing against his throbbing egg sack. This forced him to deposit more of his clutches, coo, and orgasm again, and not for a second did Ida pull back; she gasped and moaned and gagged the entire time, but Laurel never left her mouth.

Eventually, my hand grew tired. That’s when I started getting concerned. Ida must have been swallowing the wyvern’s ejaculation for three, four minutes on end. But finally, Laurel's sack deflated. I slipped my fingers out and heard a familiar purr. He was spent at last.

I wiped my fingers on my pants before physically taking Ida’s face in my hands and un-skewering her from the wyvern’s schlong. The moment his half-flaccid length slipped out of her mouth she moaned this tired, woozy moan, cum dribbling from her mouth. “Come on,” I urged, helping her to her feet. 

Trembling, Ida took my hands and stumbled. I tried to catch her but she was able to regain her balance by herself. “G-goodness!” she gasped, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. 

I tried to ignore my erection as I unshackled Laurel, releasing him back into the freedom of his large, overgrown cage. As soon as I undid the final restraint, he bounded off to go play. I chuckled and rose to my feet. Well, he certainly seemed to be back to his usual, happy self. Ordinarily I would have given him another potion so that I could masturbate him again the next day, but I figured we'd both earned a break after that ordeal. Now Ida? She was another story.

The girl was struggling to undo the metal clasps on her corset. To get them to unlatch, she had to push them inward first, tightening the garment so that the metal pegs could detach from their hooks. She couldn’t manage it though, groaning as she failed attempt after attempt. “I c-can’t breathe…” she complained. 

“Here.” I approached her and grabbed each side of her corset, tugging it inward. I think I squeezed the life out of her. She paled in an instant, reeling her head back and clamping her lips shut to stifle a wet, uncomfortable belch. I undid the row of clasps as quickly as I could. The moment the garment parted, I saw it: her belly. It was _huge,_ almost as though she were pregnant. “Ida…gods…I told you to pull back," I chided.

Her palms came to rest over the distended bump. “I’m so full,” she moaned, rubbing her hands in circles so that the contents of her stomach might settle. “How much did I swallow?”

“Over a hundred ounces, easily.”

Her response was a nauseated moan.

“That’s on a day when Laurel _hasn’t_ been given two fertility potions. His egg sack was huge. I’d wager it was a hundred and forty, hundred and fifty ounces.”

“H-how much is in a gallon?” 

“Less than that,” I tittered.

“You mean I just…I just…”

“Guzzled down over a gallon of wyvern cum, aye.”

I didn’t think it possible for any more color to drain from her face. Her hands desperately rubbed her stomach which was now audibly gurgling. I thought it even more impossible that this would make my cock throb.

My right hand extended, fingertips touching her blouse where it rested against her sternum before sliding down, down, down, over her tight and bloated belly. I dragged them down to the most distended area of her stomach and gave Ida three brisk pats with my palm. Her response was a soft, sensual moan. “You’re a bit kinky, aren’t you lass?” I inquired.

Ida stared up at me with those big, blue-gray eyes of hers and flushed, a bit of color finally returning to her face.

“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? To fill your belly up with seed?”

Any coyness she displayed was gone in an instant. “Yes…but I’m afraid I’ve become too full, Dag.” Just as Laurel had rutted his ovipositor against Ida, Ida rutted her belly against my hand. My erection throbbed again. Seeing Ida and Laurel like that was more of a turn-on that I was comfortable admitting, and now, touching Ida was building me up faster than I’d bargained for.

I laughed a low rumble of a laugh, inching closer to the girl. “Oh, darlin'…I don’t think you are.” Removing my hand from her middle, I set to work unzipping my fly. The blonde watched as I freed my cock. I hadn’t been with anyone other than my own pillow in quite some time, and even touching Ida’s bloated belly through the fabric of her dress was enough to make me want to explode. 

“Oh, Dag…” pleaded Ida, already sinking down to her knees. “I don't think I can fit anymore inside of me.” She slid her palm across my balls and I shivered, feeling the tightness within. Her hand clasped them, and she gave them a gentle shake. “See? They’re too full for me, Dag.”

My fingers tangled in her hair, nails grazing her scalp. “They are full, just like Laurel’s. But I think you can take it, don’t you?” Ida licked her lips, whimpered, and flicked my slit with her tongue. I shuddered. “Oh…” The tip of her tongue probed my slit further, circling it over and over, my cock twitching at her touch.

Ida then kissed my head. As she did so, I heard her insides protest. There was a low rumble, followed by a wet gurgle and splash. One of her hands resumed its position over her belly, rubbing soothing circles while she fondled my balls. 

Every single tug, each roll of her hand caused a conflagration of magefire to erupt within my groin. Gods, I really needed to find release. How long had it been since I’d actually been touched by someone who wasn’t covered in scales?

I was surprised when Ida went for it, sinking my cock into her throat just like she did with Laurel. “Fuck…” I groaned. And just like she did with Laurel, she bobbed her head, lips teasing my shaft while her hot, wet throat clenched around me. The day prior, she had given the wyvern such a clumsy hand job, but this? Gods. It was like she had done this a hundred times. “Oh shite lass that feels so good,” I breathed, shifting my hips forward.

When I did, she gagged hard, this loud, wet, uncomfortable gag. She pulled away from my grasp, leaving my poor cock neglected. Too bad, too, because I was seconds away from cumming. 

Ida belched, drool coating her parted lips. It dribbled onto the ground before she swayed, spit and belched again. Before I could ask if she was alright, she reached up and seized my hard-on, stroking me as she tried to regain her composure. 

“Oh yeah,” I grunted, jerking my hips so that my erection penetrated her fist. I made love to her hand as she knelt there, pale and sick, over a gallon of ejaculation churning in her guts. Why did that arouse me so? The very idea, plus each pump of her hand, was starting to send pre-orgasmic waves through my crotch. 

The girl took a deep breath, but just as quickly as she had centered herself did I hear another uncomfortable churning noise in her belly. The hand that wasn’t stroking me moved from her stomach to her neck. She massaged it, clearing her throat and spitting again.

I wanted her to let go. I don’t know why. It was depraved. I jerked my hips so hard that her hand fell away from my cock. “I didn’t give you permission to stop.” Ida whimpered and clasped her hand over her mouth, tears beginning to shine in her eyes. “I don’t care," I said. "Get back to work.”

That same, sensuous expression fell over her face as she removed her hand from her mouth. “Yes, Dag.” She bent forward and kissed my penis. I shivered and groaned. Gods, I was close. Really, really close. Ida then licked her lips and flicked her tongue over my head. I ground my dick against her lips in an attempt to push past them. She parted them for me and held her tongue out. I settled my cock on her tongue and began to rub my underside against it, breathing a lustful sigh. This only lasted a moment before I heard “HRGKK!” Her head reeled back and it happened again. “HGCK! Oh gods, oh-” 

A stream of white poured into Ida’s own lap, soaking her dress. I watched her over-full belly visibly hitch as the first stream was followed up with another, then another. She clutched her thigh with her off-hand as she knelt and vomited in rapid succession, waterfalls of the wyvern’s ejaculate splashing back into her own lap. 

The moment she could catch her breath, she resumed pumping me. I reached for her hair again and eased her face closer to my shaft. Tugging her hair in the direction I demanded, I lined myself up with her lips. She panted once, then twice, then jerked away. A massive torrent of vomit splattered onto the ground. She wiped her mouth, took a deep breath, clasped her lips over my head and swirled her tongue around me once, twice, three fast times before reeling back, dry-retching once, and vomiting again back in her lap. 

“You are such a filthy girl.” My grip on her locks tightened and I forced my cock back against her lips. Her hand had never left my shaft and she began stroking me again, my cockhead smacking against her dribbling lips. Her lips parted in a vain attempt to blow me, but she just couldn't do it. What came out next was a tedious, haggard retch, one that started in the pit of her belly and climbed its way up her throat, along with a thick clutch of eggs. Ida whimpered hard and spit them out onto the ground. She briefly choked on some that had gotten lodged in her throat which clearly didn’t feel too good on her stomach either. Another wave surged through her and she spit up onto my crotch, coating my erection with Laurel’s seed. I moved the underside of my shaft against her lips which she clamped tightly shut. “You filthy little girl…oh…fuck…yes…” I moved my shaft in and out of her fist, my head caressing her lips. “Open your mouth right now,” I demanded. 

And she did. She closed her eyes and relaxed her throat as I pushed myself inside and came, grunting and groaning, drained just as Laurel was. 

I exited her mouth panting; she was left coughing. I helped her to her feet and we stared in mutual horror at the mess around us. Ida looked terrible. And now that I was flaccid, post-orgasm clarity made it blatantly clear that we were both going to hell for this. I had no idea what to say. Truly. What _does_ one say in this particular situation, when one's partner has vomited wyvern semen onto their dick? But before I had the chance, she said, 

“I need a latrine…” clasped her hand back over her mouth, and fled. I was certain that would be the last time Ida and I ever exchanged anything other than passing hellos.

But boy was I wrong…

**Author's Note:**

> If you have a request for a story, hit me up. I'll do my best to get around to it. You will be credited for the idea and the story will be dedicated to you. For a list of things I _won't_ write about, please see my profile. I love a challenge, so don't be shy! Send your creative ideas my way!


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